Cats and Masks

May 11, 2018:

Thor meets a Black Cat.


NPCs: None.

Mentions: Superman


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

There are few that know there is an entrance and exit to the Oblivion Bar in this section of the city. It is not obvious, and the entrance requires certain knowledge and magic to use. The exit, though? Less so. Those that stumble out of it end up seeming much like any other drunk out at night: at least, the human looking ones.
Thor doesn't stumble: it would take a lot to bring him to that level. He's having a good time, though, from the buzz of the otherworldly bar. Thor does stick out, his build, and height alone do it, even if he's dressed in appropriate Midgard style. But he's human 'enough' to not attract as much attention as some of the more bizarre creatures or wizards that pass to or from that particular bar portal. So while he may be head and shoulder over most of the other bar-hopping human patrons locally, he will only garner a few drunken flirtations as he passes by. Thor's on a sidewalk near a few impatient cars that are edging towards a big group of pedestrians that crossed very late.
And there's a car speeding up on them: one that sees it has the light, but isn't aware there are still people in the crosswalk. Thor makes a quick choice, and darts out, pushing the oncoming car into the next lane over, to defend the people. There's an explosion of honking and yelling and the noise of the impact to car, as well as alarmed screams; it certainly sounded and looked like somebody was hit.

The Black Cat has just finished business at a small Thai shop a few blocks away from the rumored exit of the Oblivion. Of course, she's never been inside. Contacts she has aplenty. But magic, not so much. She walks a with a hand resting on a small leather waist pouch on her belt, turning over the day's events in her head, still aching from coming to terms with asphalt in a hasty manner. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, there's an accident ahead. Something loud and horny. Not -that- kind of horny. Cars blow their horns in protest at an intersection where people have gathered, shouting in panic and disapproval.

As the masked woman pushes her way easily through the crowd, everyone seems intent on telling her their version of events, unbidden and unasked-for. But the consensus is, some guy got hit, but it saved a lot of others. Sounds like a cape, to her. But what she finds when she emerges from the front of the crowd is not a cape at all, and she pauses, considering the implications of the precarious situation, as she tries to ascertain whether this guy is all right.

Thor is dusting both of his hands together, standing back up fully. He'd hit the car low to push it, since he had to bound out into the street. A few people that ran over to him step back. It's an ambiance thing. He doesn't really need to be in a cape to read as one. "I am quite unharmed, though I appreciate your concern," Thor says loudly to a guy calling 'You wanna Ambulance?' at him from the side. Thor's voice carries, even over one of the horns of someone who doesn't care about the near accident and just wants people to get out of his street. That man in that car has THINGS TO DO, places to be.
"You stopped a speedin' CAR. Are you Superman?" A drunk woman asks from his elbow, as she inspects him from behind. She must have missed the long blonde hair. Thor, though, is distracted by looking around for his bag; it dislodged when he hit the car with his opposite shoulder. He separates from the disarray of people to look around for it, much to their puzzlement.
He doesn't see the masked woman yet, though a few others did see her. "Are you his sidekick?" a drunken man asks, as if upset by that idea. "I could use a hot sidekick."

"Here's his bag," notes a man with a chili stain down the front of a green tee-shirt that reads "Magically Delicious," though Cat doubts that it's true. "The hell's he got in here, rocks?" Chili Stain asks with a drunken slur.

"Certainly," the Black Cat replies with an offhanded shrug. All guys his size carry around a bag of rocks." Cat steps over to the bag with a roll of her eyes. Puny non-mutant…what?" She tries desperately to pick up the bag, but it won't budge. That bag isn't big enough to hold anything that heavy…unless he has a few teaspoons of a neutron star in there, she thinks wryly.

Cat turns and walks toward the new hero, offering him an easy smile and a jerk of her thumb toward the bag. "Hey, Tall Strong and Handsome…I think you're lookin' for that?"

Thor is mildly insulted by the 'rock' thing. "Mjolnir is hardly rocks!" Thor proclaims to the whole of anyone who is listening nearby. Volume. "Though I do understand the uneducated comparison in terms of weight," Thor clarifies, as if to prove he's quite aware. Or just prove he's a weirdo that named his bag or the contents. Maybe it has a kitten in it named Meor-meor.
"Ah! Good. I /am/ seeking it. I have learned not to call upon it in crowds," Thor informs Cat regretfully, as if she had any idea what he was talking about. He makes assumptions. He reaches out and the bag flips over and leaps to him, reducing speed at the last moment so that he can snare a strap and sling it easily over a shoulder. He looked like a telekinetic. "I am called Thor Odinson," Thor clarifies, and flashes an enormous smile to Cat, with an earnest, relaxed manner. "Perhaps we should not stand in this lane of vehicles."

"Right," Cat agrees. "I don't want to be the reason you have to stop another car, and y'know…" She looks around them. "Piss everybody off again. They're finally simmering down to a respectable level of grumpily plastered." Cat moves along the edge of the group toward the sidewalk, adding, "I'm the Black Cat." If he even knew to look for her, then it would be utterly obvious anyway. Why lie?

"And YOU are drunk. But not a messy drunk. A just buzzed enough to be clueless and charming." Little does she know that neither of those is the alcohol.
"I am willing to stop any number of cars," Thor states firmly, with an aggressive direct of his gaze across the impatiently beeping cars. The one directly in front of them stops beeping. But Thor moves towards the curb, with many of the plastered human patrons finally taking the hint. An introduction is afoot, though, and Black Cat gets his full attention. "The Black Cat! That is very easy to remember. Is that your complete title? I am able to provide the rest of mine, but in the interest of not tying up the street, I did not relate it at length."
DRUNK? "I did not partake to an extreme," Thor says to Black Cat, though it isn't defensive. More sad, perhaps. That he didn't do that. "But I prefer to do so on Asgardian ale, and with friends. I have many clues on many things, my information has naught to do with drink."

"Oh course you do. I'm certain your clues abound," Cat replies with an amused smile. "The Black Cat suffices, as I have no further titles. Although many have provided prefixes, at their own whims." (That damned, seems to be a crowd favourite.) She pauses as they reach the relative safety of the curb. "I don't suppose you can get Asgardian ale around Brooklyn, eh? A shame, if not. I think I should rather enjoy watching you drink to excess. What is life for, if not enjoying excess?"
Thor isn't a fool, and may not be as drunk as suspected, because he gives her a little side-eye as if deciding if she's teasing him about the clues reply. Some people seem to like to take his honest statements and turn them into teases! He doesn't fixate on it, though, there's booze to discuss.
"The keg in the apartment I frequent does not exactly count as such, or a source, as I brought the ale myself," Thor decides, lifting a hand to rub the palm along his jaw and chin, considering if that would count as a source of ale in the city. He decides not. But he brightens. "Do you have a different excess you enjoy?" Thor questions, in his open way. If she leads somewhere beyond the curb he'll come along; otherwise the sidewalk is fine with him: he sets his hands low against the pockets of his overly snug jeans.

Her will find no hint of malice in her demeanour, as her banter comes in a light-hearted, easy manner. "Well no, I suppose that wouldn't necessarily count as getting the ale here, since it was procured at its origin. But if you should decide to imbibe, at least it counts as a means by which to do so." She is wandering, seemingly aimlessly as cats do, although the darker street down which she leads likely had a flash of something shiny somewhere in the distance that beckoned to her, even if subconsciously. That, or she's hoping that it will.

"Excess, as you know, comes in all forms. Some more dangerous than others. A beautiful bauble, a handsome gentleman who definitely isn't clueless, a night beneath the stars just to watch them sparkle. Things that shine. Things that make me feel good. All are excess, if they aren't necessary to exist. But they make existence more exciting."
"I notice your costume and mask," Thor begins, "Are not doing positive deeds also among your list?" Thor asks, with an arch of eyebrow and lopsided smile. Thor was fine with the people staring at him, or walking away, or whichever. He'll come off as easygoing, at least for now. So the both of them, really, have the same relaxed motive. Whether his has gotten there with assistance of some kind of liquor is unclear.
"Some consider it a duty or responsibility," Thor says, his voice deepening some as he feels through what he's saying. "But I think that it can be both that and also add a 'shine', as you said."

"Well all wear masks, in some form or fashion," Cat says, giving a pebble a lackadaisical kick and sending it dozens of yards down the sidewalk in an eerily straight line. "I wear mine because it keeps me safe from a great many things. And good deeds -do- make me feel good. I pushed through the throng of drunks to see if I could help the poor soul who'd lost a chicken fight with a car. Just turned out that the car was the one that lost." She shrugs and glances sidelong up at her new companion. "Though maybe I'm not as dedicated as you, or your friends. It's never been my environment, I suppose."

"What motivates you to do what you do?"

"I do not intend to wear a mask. But I could see it… as /being/ something to people, or not broadcasting a particular weakness," Thor decides, mulling it through. "I resolve generally that being direct and straightforward is the best route." Thor nods once. He drops his hand from the contemplation at his chin, but brightens at her. "While I wasn't hurt, that was still the best reaction," Thor declares. If she cares about his approval, well, she's gotten it. "I am glad to be able to help when it occurs in front of me, or I am called to arms."

"The world could use more like you, Thor." Felicia smiles as he brightens up, making her entire night. "I'm not always…a good girl. But I try, when I can." She pauses, looking up at him. Way up at him. "You're a lot more complex than I expected. Lots lurking behind that pretty face."

"But to answer your question, Dark Cat, I am motivated by a good honest brawl, or bettering myself-or even others— in battle prowess. Protecting those that need it from villainous intent. I also am motivated by good beer and a feast," Thor says, his bright smile still warm. He flips a wink sideways down to her.
Thor is a sunny creature when he's in a pleasant mood. This godlike radiance is real. "But I do not think I am so complex after all. Perhaps you project," Thor suggests, with a quiet wisdom behind mild blue eyes. It isn't flirtatious, it doesn't have that quality. Thor lends more regal than flirty, even within a wink.

Cat smiles quietly, looking down to watch her feet as she walks for a moment. Bettering people….maybe he has with her, too. Maybe she's hiding a little blush by looking down. "You're one of the really good ones. And I don't say that lightly," she adds, looking back up at him. "But my guess is, you knew that, too." She returns his wink in a playful manner.

"It's part of the many clues that I collect," Thor says, sternly, but still with that smile. He might actually indeed be somewhat clueless. It goes in and out, depending on the subject, perhaps. "I do what I can to maintain that positive view from you and othes," Thor says, as if he were giving her some kind of strange, heartfelt oath. To continue to be a good example. "However, I must leave you now. I do hope you enjoy your excess," Thor says, stopping, and inclining his head to her in an overly formal way.

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